Far Away
by Cathain Nottingham
Summary: After returning to Atlantis, Major Lorne reflects on the life he left on Earth.


**Title:** Far Away  
**Rating:** PG  
**Spoilers:** Coup d'Etat  
**Season:** Two  
**Summary:** After returning to Atlantis, Major Lorne reflects on the life he left on Earth.  
**Disclaimer:** Okay I don't own Stargate Atlantis or anything to do with it's universe, you know that and I know that so lets not bring it up. I also own no rights to Nickelback's 'Far Away'. I do own the plot and Trisha though.

**Author's Note:** Please read and review.

* * *

Marcus Lorne walked into his quarters and sighed as he looked around the dimly lit room. There wasn't much in the room but then again he hadn't particularly cared about interior design.

Nearly everything in the room was 'standard', his bed, end table, desk and chair. When he'd first applied for the Atlantis project he couldn't think of how he would decide what to bring with him. How could someone pack what mattered to them most in a bag?

He ended up settling with his guitar, a stack of photos and a soccer ball. He'd packed what he also referred to as 'comfort clothes', a pair of old torn jeans that he'd had since college and a black fitted sweater that he'd been given the Christmas before he left by Trisha.

Trisha…

There was the name that was never far from his mind, especially over the past few days. Impending death could do that to a man, he decided.

Trisha had been one of his closest friends for as long as he could remember. They'd gone to grade school together but it wasn't until the eighth grade that they'd really noticed one another. Trisha had joined the football team and the pair just sort of bonded. Together they'd survived high school, with Trisha tutoring Marc through chemistry and in return, he tutored her through French. After four years of a constant rumored relationship they'd graduated together, laughing about all of the rumor love stories.

Marc had gotten a scholarship for soccer and decided to take it while Trisha decided to just attend community college for her general education. They'd kept in touch, writing and calling constantly. Their junior year they were reunited when Trisha transferred to his campus. After graduation he joined the Air Force and moved away but still he kept in contact with home and with Trisha. He went home every chance he got, spent time with his family, with Trisha…it had been the last Christmas he'd celebrated at home that Trisha had given him the sweater.

"You look good in black," she had said. "Besides I just love that sweater."

He'd loved it ever since. Opening his dresser drawer he ran his fingertips gingerly over the sweater before he closed the drawer and headed into the shower. After a painfully long debrief and a visit to the Infirmary, Marcus decided a nice long shower was in order.

After being held hostage by the Genii, Marcus understood the general dislike everyone had for them. He could hardly wait to destroy the shabby sweater and scarf he'd been forced to wear.

They could have killed him.

During the entire ordeal he'd kept those thoughts out of his mind, he'd stayed strong for his men. No weakness, no fear. He had faith in Atlantis, he knew they would come; the only question had been would he be alive when they got there?

As his men slowly began to retreat into themselves, growing quieter and quieter, Marcus used the silence to think about home.

About Trisha.

Never once in their relationship had romance ever been involved. They were friends, best friends, and romance had played no part in it. Or at least it hadn't for him until that junior year.

He'd been dating a sophomore for a few months when he'd first seen Trisha again. She'd been walking across the main court when he caught a glimpse of her. It had been months since they'd last seen each other and miraculously something had changed.

He cared for her.

The one thing that could have made him give up his dreams of the Air Force was Trisha, but like the good and playful friend she was, her only comment had been that she couldn't wait to see what he looked like in uniform. That last Christmas had been bittersweet for him, he'd wanted so badly to tell her, tell her that he realized he loved her all those years ago, but he just couldn't say the words.

He leaned against the shower wall and closed his eyes - he could have been killed! It wasn't so much the dead part that was bothering him ironically enough, but the fact that Marcus Lorne would be lost from the universe and never once told anyone his true feelings. He wouldn't be survived by his wife and children…he'd just be gone. And after his friends and family passed on all that would be left of him would be a service record in the Air Force, half of which was confidential anyway.

He turned off the water and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel he ran the dry cloth over his face and down his torso, where it ended its journey as he wrapped it around his lithe waist.

He definitely didn't look like an Air Force major. When people thought of the military they often thought of the large shouldered football star from high school, someone tall and intimidating…

Marcus on the other hand, stood at about five foot seven and had a slim physique that people often believed he'd gotten from competitive swimming, not from a soccer career. Trisha had always teased that she was jealous of his figure. They often worked out together in high school but Trisha could never get rid of the natural curves and bumps of her body.

God how he missed those curves now.

Distracting himself from his thoughts, Marcus padded into his room and grabbed his jeans and sweater. He smirked slightly as he pulled on the jeans, his mother would kill him if she ever learned he went commando.

What mama don't know won't hurt her.

Okay that made three things he missed about Earth; family, Trisha and Adam Sandler films.

He sat down in a chair and picked up his guitar, strumming it as he let his mind wander. He seemed to keep coming back to one thought though…

Trisha.

He could have died and she would never have heard his feelings for her.

Grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper from his desk, he sat down and strummed a few cords on his guitar, trying to find the right notes. When he found them he paused to hastily scribble down his thoughts while he'd been imprisoned.

A few minutes later he leaned back in his chair and put the words to his melody.

_This time, this place  
Misused, mistakes  
Too long, too late  
Who was I to make you wait?  
Just one chance  
Just one breath  
Just in case there's just one more left  
'Cause you know,  
You know…you know…_

What did Trisha know? Did she know that he'd been in love with her for years? That if there were ever just one woman for Marcus Lorne she was it? Marc grabbed his pen and wrote down the chorus.

_That I love you  
I have loved you all along  
And I miss you  
Been away far, far too long  
I keep dreaming you'll be with me  
And you'll never go  
Stop breathing if  
I don't see you anymore_

That was how he felt most of the time. How could he have been so stupid as to think he could take a position in another galaxy? There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Atlantis was a once in a lifetime opportunity but still…

_On my knees, I'll ask  
Last chance for one last dance  
'Cause with you, I'd withstand  
All of hell to hold your hand  
I'd give it all  
I'd give for us  
Give anything but I won't give up  
'Cause you know, you know…you know…_

He rewrote the chorus in his scribbled handwriting, adding in repeated lines where necessary for the letter to also double as a song.

Marc smiled as he finished up the end of the song.

_'Cause I needed  
I need to hear you say  
That I love you  
I have loved you all along  
And I forgive you  
For being away for far too long  
So keep breathing  
'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore  
Believe it.  
**-Marc**_


End file.
